The Toothbrush Talk
by kitty1
Summary: Carter/Abby romance fic: A toothbrush raises some interesting questions about their relationship.
1. Default Chapter

  
"The Toothbrush Talk"  
  
Disclaimer: Huh? I've never seen this fic before in my entire life, Mr. Chrichton, I swear. Gives puppy dog look (tm Noah Wyle).  
  
Summary: A toothbrush raises some interesting questions about their relationship.  
  
This is obviously post an end of sorts to the Luka/Abby thing. Your guess as to how it ended is probably better than mine so go with it g. Carter and Abby are (in my delusional universe) in a romantic relationship. Let that be a WARNING to all those who would rather gnaw their own limbs off than see them together. And if you do read it, I'm *not* being held responsible for your limbs. :)  
  
I have no idea where the hell I'm going with this. I'm just going. Hop aboard. Bring your own snack food. This is Carter/Abby! Relationship! Angst! Kinda! Shall I see where I can take it, or abandon ship now?:)  
  
Many thanks to Jen. Mwa! You rock.  
  
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Morning light seeps through the curtains like a hazy fog, bathing the room in its mute warmth.   
  
Slipping out of bed she moves her weight to the balls of her feet in an attempt to retain this sense of stillness, moving carefully across the room, before hesitating at the foot of his bed to watch him.  
  
His chest moves up and down with a slow, lazy pace. He's lying on his back, his face to one side, with his right arm flung above his head and the other across his stomach, clutching his shirt. The sheets a jumble around his feet. She teases a foot gently with a finger and watches as he twitches away from her. She absently wonders whether his tee shirt is as soft as it looks.  
  
She smiles and pads out into the bathroom. Her toothbrush is hanging next to his and she picks it up and finds the paste. It's several seconds after she's begun to brush when the significance behind this dawns on her.   
  
Her toothbrush. His place. It means something, doesn't it?   
  
She begins to hum the theme tune to an advert. A toothpaste commercial.  
  
She's spitting the paste into the sink when a pair of arms comes up around her waist, a mouth nuzzling playfully at her neck.  
  
"Hey," she says through a mouthful of paste.  
  
He's grinning. She can hear it in his sleep-clouded voice. "Hey back at you."  
  
She spits into the sink again. "Didn't mean to wake you."  
  
He looks up at her reflection, their doppelgangers sharing a smile. "With that singing? I think I heard dogs howling."  
  
And she nudges him in the chest lightly with her elbow. He grins and mocks being injured. His hands tighten around her waist, pulling her further against him, his head burying itself into her hair. His breath warm on her neck.  
  
She grins at his reflection and then turns to look at him, and he smiles, leaning in to kiss her. She stops him with an amused finger. "Go brush your teeth, Carter."  
  
He grunts his discontent at this, raising both eyebrows in an attempt to gain some leeway. C'mon, Abby. Just this once. Teeth, later. Now. Please? C'mon...  
  
She gives in with a resigned sigh. He hasn't brushed his teeth. Neither of them really cares.  
  
After a moment she leans back, to look him head on. "Gotta be going soon," she says.  
  
He nods, a little dumbly, his brain still adjusting to consciousness and the feel of her body against his. "Um, I had the strangest dream. You were in it." He says softly, a hand drawing circles across her skin. "You were leaving me. You were running away to the mountains with Malucci."  
  
She laughs, "With Dr Dave?!"  
  
He smiles. Or is he still? "Promise me you won't."  
  
She smiles and then continues to brush her teeth. "Done and done."   
  
He closes his eyes and kisses her neck softly. He can feel her breathing against him. Her breaths are so small that he's surprised she manages to remain conscious. She smells of toothpaste and shampoo and clean laundry. He remembers falling asleep like this. Breathing her.  
  
"You have the time?" He asks her hair.  
  
She hums a yes.  
  
He waits and then turns to eye her reflection. "Well...why don't you tell me?"  
  
She smiles. "You only asked if I *had* the time."  
  
He groans into her neck. "A wise guy, huh?... well that's *very* attractive first thing in the morning."  
  
She gives a short pointed laugh. "So's waking people up at four in the morning."  
  
His eyes glisten playfully. "I did no such thing."  
  
She laughs again. "Oh really? That's funny, if I remember correctly, your exact words were: 'Wake up, Abby, wake up.'"  
  
He smiles and a phone begins to ring out. He groans into her hair again, kisses her shoulder and moves to go, but before doing so, turns to look at her. "And if *I* remember correctly, you weren't exactly complaining."  
  
She shoots him a glare, but this only makes him laugh.  
  
She thinks that maybe they could go and catch some coffee before their shifts start. Breakfast. Maybe even breakfast. The most important meal of the day and all that hooha that she should really start to pay attention to. Mmm. Blueberry pancakes.  
  
The phone's still ringing out and she can hear him curse, the sound of objects being tossed aside in this solitary search party he's throwing for it. She's definitely going to have to domesticate him sometime soon. How does anyone manage to lose a ringing phone?  
  
"Um, Carter, you want to catch some breakfast?" She calls out to him.  
  
A pause. The phone continues to ring. "You don't believe in breakfast."  
  
She smiles. "The Breakfast Believers Police are we?"  
  
The ringing stops, and she pokes her head out of the bathroom and sees him talking into the phone. He looks up at her and smiles. She returns it. "We can get blueberry pancakes. Oh, and we..." she looks at her toothbrush, "uh, we need to talk."  
  
He stops chatting and looks up at her, half-amused, half-scared-shitless. He's never fared well in Relationship Talks. "Um, we do?"  
  
She watches him for a second and then smiles, nods and returns to the bathroom.   
  
And resuming her toothpaste hum she finishes brushing her teeth.  
  
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Um, review for the hell of it, OK? My first attempt at full on relationshippy stuff. Was it worth anybody's while?:)  
  
To be continued...  
  



	2. Default Chapter

"The Toothbrush Talk"  
  
Characters copyrighted by Warner and his Brother's. No infringement intended.  
  
Finale to my Carter/Abby romance fic set in season 8. Repeat after me: They will get together. They will get together. They will...   
  
Be warned, I turned on the fuzz for this one. If the whole idea of them being together brings you out in a blistering rash then either read it and keep those medical bills to yourself or hit the back button on your browser now. :)  
  
For Jessica. Shaving, just as the lady requested.   
  
Extra big thanks to Drummer. Just 'cause.  
  
------------------------  
  
She's only just finished lathering his face up in shaving cream. He didn't ask her to. It just seemed like the most natural thing in the world to do. He needed to shave; she was closest to the cream.   
  
His hands rest on the edge of the sink, either side of her. She reaches behind herself for the razor and then begins to hum the theme tune to an advert. One of those male-shaver commercials with montages of guy's stroking their chins in awe of how smooth they are. She's tempted to help him re-enact one and smiles at this idea.  
  
He squints at his reflection in the mirror behind her. "Hey Abby, would you like me any less if I grew a goatee?"  
  
She gives him a look, as she begins to gently comb his face with the razor. "Who said anything about me liking you?"  
  
He pinches an arm playfully. "You're a nut."  
  
"Just call me Hazel."  
  
He groans and rolls his eyes. "That joke's hard to take without coffee."  
  
She laughs lightly and tells him to be quiet or she'll end up nicking him. He smiles and complies. He's always thought it wise not to argue with a lady carrying a razor.  
  
This all comes so easily. Being like this with him. Shaving with him and working with him and kissing him and making love to him. Waking up next to him.   
  
It all comes so naturally.  
  
She's never trusted anyone so completely with herself. On the worst night of her life, she knows that she could go to him and wilt into tears and he would take her in without question, wrap her up in his arms and hold her as long as she needed to be held. She has never made use of this gift, but she has no doubt that she has this - and always will.  
  
And as comforting as that is, it also holds an element of fear, of vulnerability. In fact, that was part of the reason it took her so long to act on any of her feelings. Everything in her life seemed to have this uncanny ability to fall into a million pieces with due time and she didn't want to involve him in any of the fall-out; couldn't risk losing whatever they had for a quick fling.   
  
So she pushed him, and he pushed back.   
  
And he pushed her, and she pulled back.  
  
The dance they did.   
  
And somewhere in all that pushing and pulling he had kissed her, and she hadn't pulled back.   
  
She often wonders why. Why her. What on earth could she possibly have to offer him? Out of all the other fish in the sea, why does he choose to be with her?   
  
She continues to focus on his jaw, resuming her humming as she finishes with the last stray vestiges of shaving cream.   
  
He smiles at her, "Done?"  
  
She shakes her head, and puts the razor down on the sink behind her. He gives her a perplexed grin and she smiles as she leans in to kiss his jaw. "Done."  
  
His arms circle her waist and he pulls her tight against him to kiss her deeply. She holds his face in her hands as he kisses her, pulling back first, and planting a small kiss on his nose on impulse.   
  
"And if you grow a goatee, I'm disowning you."  
  
He grins and holds her gaze for a moment before turning her to face the mirror, his hands resting on her waist. She laughs at this.  
  
"What am I looking at?" she asks him finally.  
  
"You," he whispers into an ear.  
  
She laughs again. "Me. So?"  
  
"You're amazing," he sighs into her neck, kissing her softly.   
  
Shaking her head she smiles wryly, dropping his gaze.  
  
He looks up at her reflection, "Oh you don't think so, huh?"  
  
She catches his eyes in their reflection. He's watching her with an intensity that she's never seen before and something shifts inside her, like a tide capsizing.   
  
She turns to kiss him deeply, passionately; tempted to take him there and then. There isn't any fall-out and nothing's falling to pieces.   
  
She grins against him finally, slightly breathless, "You should go get dressed... we'll be late."  
  
He shrugs, his hands still drawing circles on her waist. "We could always skip work and go to the zoo?"   
  
She laughs, "There a difference?"  
  
Another shrug and a smile. "Patients don't look so happy when you feed them."  
  
She smiles, and pats his side with one hand. "Go get dressed, Carter."  
  
He laughs and leaves her alone in the bathroom, with one final kiss to her forehead.  
  
She builds up a puddle of water in her hands and then showers it across her face, looking up into the mirror. Maybe it's just her imagination, but she swears there's something different about her.   
  
A year ago she wouldn't have believed that this man would ever mean this much to her. He is the first man who has ever made her laugh hysterically in bed. The first who has ever made her cry out in passion. She just can't be embarrassed in his presence. There are no secrets between them and there is no fantasy that will go unexplored. She can whisper anything into his ear and he will do it, he will fulfill it.  
  
He walks back into the bathroom, doing up the last buttons on his shirt, his tie loose around his neck. He looks up at her a little hesitantly. "So... you wanted to talk?"  
  
She pauses, and turns to glance at him. "Um, no."  
  
He smiles, and looks up from his button. "No?"  
  
She shakes her head, "No... I wanted to give you something."  
  
She reaches behind herself and then holds something up in front of him. He looks down at the object she wields and then up at her. "A toothbrush?"  
  
"My toothbrush."  
  
He grins. "Your toothbrush?"   
  
She doesn't expand on this and so he takes it from her hands, eyeing it with amusement. "What... is it for luck or something? If I rub it will a wish-granting genie appear?"  
  
She laughs and shrugs, playing with his tie for him. "Sure. Luck. Keep it - next to yours. For luck."  
  
He's still grinning when she looks back up at him, his eyes twinkling.  
  
And she kisses him because she knows that she may, that she can, that kissing him that first time was not a mistake, and because someday soon, she wants her toothbrush back.  
  
***  
  
An end.   
  
Thanks for all the wonderful feedback on the first one, it was the only reason I decided to tackle my writer's block head-on and finish this one. :)   



End file.
